


Sara's Extraordinary Playlist

by webbythyme



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternative Universe - No Island, Angst, F/F, F/M, Humor, Romance, Sara POV, Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist AU, and nothing, and she thought oliver was flat, but he might just be the most complex person she has ever met, sara is just doing her best, she did not ask for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webbythyme/pseuds/webbythyme
Summary: Sara wakes up hearing her sister singing. And then she hears others singing and everyone is just acting like it is normal. She tries to ignore it, she tries to leave it alone. But it seems the music gods don't want her to ignore it. They make that abundantly clear when Oliver is singing to Felicity and they almost have sex in the library and Tommy Merlyn pours his heart out to her sister.Sara didn't ask for this but no one is with the right person and now she has to fix it.And if Ava Sharpe wants to sing how she feels about her, well that would be great.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Tommy Merlyn, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	Sara's Extraordinary Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> The Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist no one asked for but guess what, you're getting it. 
> 
> I am having so much fun writing with Sara's POV. This is mostly Olicity through Sara's eyes and her doing her absolute best to ignore it. But they are just so pitiful and she can't help herself.

Sara could tell something _weird_ was going on. When she woke up for school, she could hear singing in her sister’s bedroom. That alone tipped her off because Laurel didn’t sing. Laurel didn’t do anything that might show her as anything other than prim and proper and perfect to be _the_ Mrs. Oliver Queen and singing out loud definitely wouldn’t give off Queen vibes.

But there was no denying it. The off-pitched—definitely not winning her any awards—voice was sweeping through her room and their shared bathroom and into Sara’s. The noise was annoying and nerve wracking enough, but the song—the song she was singing was just confusing.

So Sara slid out of her bed and away from her very _very_ comfortable bamboo slate sheets that her dad scoured for after Sara struggled with the heat when their AC broke. The sheets were supposed to be “more breathable” and “moisture wicking” and her dad promised it would cause less sweating. So far, he had been right, and she had been very thankful for them.

Sara slips through the bathroom and cracks open her sister’s adjoining door and to peak through and almost jumps back in the shock. Her sister—her quiet and hair never out of place Laurel—dancing around the room singing with such ire and anger as she picks up an old baton of their mom’s and begins to break everything around her.

Her room is a state of disaster—a broken mirror with glass shattered to the ground, feathers from a pillow that Laurel had torn apart with her teeth and with each word of the song she rears back with the baton and with a beautiful pirouette smashes against her vanity mirror.

“ _Losing grip of my reality_ ,” She belts while reaching high to snatch up a picture of her and Oliver and ripping it to shreds, “ _I’m over the edge_ ,” Another picture left to be pieces on her floor. “ _I yell and I scream.”_

Another photo, another pile.

“ _I’m a prisoner here,”_ Her voice cracks and she picks up the final picture and Sara opens the door just an inch to see it is the one where she is sandwiched between Oliver and Tommy, “ _Come get me, set me free_.”

She cries on these words and sits the picture untouched on the desk that is broken to bits and Sara will unpack all of that in just moments but first she should probably stop the destruction, “Laurel!”

Sara blinks, her chest heaving when she looks around and sees her sister’s room untouched, perfect and full of pinks and greys and quiet—just like her—and Laurel is sitting at her desk, still fully put together and staring at that same photo.

There is _no_ way she just dreamt that up.

“What?” Laurel turns, bright smile and not angry like she was seconds ago.

Sara struggles to swallow and she thinks she coughs but she doesn’t know. “Er, nothing. Good morning.”

And then she closes the door back.

“What the _fuck?_ ”

* * *

Sara shakes throughout her shower, jumps at breakfast when her dad’s phone goes off and stares a hole through the back of her sister’s head trying to understand just what the holy hell happened this morning.

On their way to school, Sara picks at her nails not caring if the flakes of polish litter across her sister’s car.

“Um, so, Laurel,” Sara clears her throat, “How are you and Oliver?”

Sara watches the slightest clench of the steering wheel, but Laurel says, “Perfect. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“No reason,” Sara shrugs and knows she is doing weird movements of her mouth trying her hardest to be casual, “But if you weren’t--”

“We are.”

“But if you weren’t,” Sara stresses, “That’s cool too.”

Laurel doesn’t answer her, and they ride in silence for two minutes.

She pats her legs and then blurts, “Were you singing this morning?”

They are at a stop light and Laurel looks at her with crinkled brows and annoyance, “Are you high?”

“God, I wish,” Sara mutters as she still tries to understand just what was wrong with her.

Maybe this was all an elaborate ruse and Laurel is just punking her or some shit. But when they get to school and park in her usual spot which is coincidently beside Oliver, she hops out with a skip—fake Sara now believes—and kisses a casual I don’t give two fucks Oliver and Tommy is beside them. And then it fucking happens _again._

She hears the background music building in her mind, and she is like twenty five percent sure she is going crazy and ninety percent sure she shouted oh come on.

The beat starts to build and she looks into the air like that’s where this is coming from, “Is that Ben Platt?”

She looks around to see who is about to sing a heart song or whatever the fuck and she is pretty sure her eyes fall out of her face when player fuckboy extraordinaire Tommy Merlyn is walking beside Laurel and is _singing._

“ _You won’t let go of your layers, but your power can strip me away,”_ He sings low and his eyes are on Laurel as they walk down the hall.

Sara’s jaw is still dropped as she walks steps behind them and is really believing she is crazy because Tommy doesn’t have feelings like _this._

He is now walking in circles around the golden couple, singing his heart out and it is broken and bloody.

“ _Why can’t you take my hand?”_ He reaches out but snatches his hand before he gets too close and Sara feels secondhand embarrassment at his timed movements. She is a bucket full of yikes at this point, “ _I’m not what you planned.”_

It is like straight out of a heartbreaking music video and pieces are starting to fit together. Does Tommy _like_ Laurel? She thinks back to the song from Laurel and the only photo she didn’t rip to dirty shred.

Do they like _each other?_

Why the fuck was she wasting her time with Oliver then?

Tommy stops in front of Laurel, smoothly stepping into her space and sliding his hands to her cheeks and forcing her to look up at him. His forehead is against him and he whispers the next lyrics like they are just for Laurel and Sara feels like she is definitely intruding on something here, _“I know I’ve played with hearts before. Don’t have the heart to play with yours.”_

He breathes deeply and continues on, everything moving around them is a blur, “ _I only swear to do the best I can, cause when you put your trust in me, how beautiful our love could be.”_

He drops her face half steps away to fall back instep beside the couple looking longingly, “ _If only you would take a chance.”_

And like she is being shocked with volts of electricity, everything falls backs to normal and Tommy is laughing with Oliver over Laurel’s shoulder and not giving her the time of day. And that’s what she is used to. Tommy and Laurel putting up with each other because they both love Oliver and for no other reason _ever._ She couldn’t even think of a time they even spoke to each other.

This has to be a dream, right? Okay, a weird dream where she thinks Tommy is secretly in love with anyone other than himself and Laurel _doesn’t_ want to be with Oliver, but a dream still.

She holds her hand up and counts her fingers like dad taught her when she used to have night terrors and couldn’t decipher what was real and what wasn’t.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Well shit, no extra fingers.

Thankfully she makes it through her first period with no lingering music in the back of her mind. She definitely freaks internally when the bell rings and she couldn’t tell you what they learned in class because she is too focused on waiting for the next mental breakdown.

She wants to tell someone, _anyone,_ that might believe her but the only person who would or at least find it fascinating enough to humor her was Ray, but he had mono. Little shit.

She settled on handling this herself and hopes no other life changing secret get dropped on her.

She shouldn’t have hopes. Like ever.

Because her hopes got smashed during third period. Stupid stupid Sara. She is in physics and doesn’t care at all about it without Ray to cheat off of, so she begs the teacher to let her work in the library where it is quiet. Not unprecedented but usually she is with Ray who is king of the nerds and can get away with that kind of shit.

But somehow, someway it works, and she gathers all her things needed to pretend to be working and hurries away before the teacher can change her mind.

She settles in the back where the study tables are and gives a nod to Oliver who is also there. That was odd enough, but what about this day wasn’t?

It wasn’t that she didn’t _like_ Oliver. She thought he was just flat with no substance. He did everything in his life because he thought it was what he was supposed to do. He was a jackass because that’s what popular guys did, he threw his money around like it was nothing, he threw “killer parties, bro.” He was a cliché, a sad little cliché who dated the captain of the cheer team because he was _supposed_ to. 

Sara had no doubt he’d even marry Laurel and they would spend their days at the country club sad and sipping on scotch while he slept with his housekeeper.

He fell so easily into that role and never tried to get out of it.

So Sara didn’t not like him but she definitely didn’t like him. Oliver Queen got everything he wanted and never bore the consequences of his actions. She didn’t think anybody should be allowed _that_ much power.

She was kind because he dated his sister and so he got her acknowledging nod and nothing else as she took her seat.

She watches him because she is protective of Laurel, but then she hears the music begin to play and she is pretty sure she growls. It is quiet and slow, but the beat is familiar just off.

And then she hears, “ _I want you to want me.”_

Really? Cheap trick? And also, a cover of cheap trick. Who is the poor soul having to sing this song?

She rolls her eyes but then through the stacks comes one Felicity Smoak and she is looking right at Oliver. She is holding her books close to her chest, standing off to the side staring at him where he plays on his phone.

Oh _no._

How could Felicity like Oliver? How could she even talk to him with his fakeness and over flirtatious smiles and personality? Felicity who is awkward and probably has never even kissed someone before.

And poor thing really doesn’t have a chance. Not that Felicity isn’t pretty cause she is, and she is nice and all that, but Felicity isn’t “popular” and Oliver cares way too much about reputation to ever drop to any level that isn’t just as popular. And he might cheat on Laurel and he might lead girls on and do whatever the hell he does, but he wasn’t going to go against Mommy dearest and stray forever. And not with Felicity.

Because it’s Felicity. Felicity who finds taking apart a computer and putting it back together fun. Felicity who has a genius IQ and babbles her way through most conversations and had few friends, if any. They were the same age though Felicity was a senior like Laurel and Oliver because she skipped a grade. Could probably skip another if she really wanted to.

Not that she didn’t like Felicity. Their parents were dating and had been for six months and though Laurel refused to get to know the Smoak’s for the solidarity of their MIA mom, Sara did talk at the few dinners they had together and Donna did go out of her way to be kind and even showed up to Sara’s recital two weeks ago when her dad couldn’t make it.

She was awkward for sure, but she was nice. A complete opposite of her mom in her tight dresses and giggle fits, but she was kind. They both were.

However, kind and awkward and genius Felicity was not going to be close to Oliver. But she knew from Laurel that Felicity had been tutoring Oliver to help him at least graduate. So, he probably had turned up the charm for her to do his homework and now he has a girl singing cheap trick to him.

Quietly, standing there in the spotlight begging him to want her. She honestly feels bad for her because Felicity deserves more than that. The song is short, and Sara is back in the real world where Felicity is taking her seat beside him like she isn’t crushing _hard._

Sara turns back to her journal and trying to figure out a way to skip dance class when she starts to hear Felicity and Oliver _interacting._

“You have a test in two days over Beowulf and you need at least a seventy five on it,” She is pulling out a packet of papers from her book bag, “So I have outlined all the main parts we need to focus on so we don’t have to spend any more nights together.”

Felicity’s eyes widen and her cheeks tint pink, “Not that I don’t enjoy spending the night with you. And by spending the night I mean in your study, you know, studying. Of course, you know, you are there. And that’s what we do. We _study._ ”

She is almost teary eyed by the end and Sara doesn’t know if it is from lack of air or embarrassment.

“Oliver, stop me,” She almost begs.

Sara’s tilts her head and scrunches her lips as she sees the side of Oliver’s face. He is smiling and not that stupid flat fake smile that is just there because he is Ollie Queen. No, this is a _smile._ And he even sighs through it and it comes out like a melodic laugh as he looks at the petite blonde with panda flats, square rimmed glasses, and a septum piercing.

“Fe-lic-ity,” He literally says it with each syllable a different inflection and Sara’s interest is piqued. Honestly, it is all she needed. Because he has never spoken to Laurel like that. Like her name alone could save him, like her name held power.

It seems to break Felicity though, like his voice is the antidote to her ramblings and somehow this is even more confusing than the people who keep fucking singing.

“I just want you to do well,” She whispers, pushing her head behind her ear.

He reaches forward and rests his hand atop hers and Sara can’t believe this happening with her right here. He is really laying it on thick. He isn’t usually so obvious in his flirting, but there is nothing subtle with his hand on top of hers and he almost seems _genuine._

Whoa. Not a usual Oliver tactic.

She feels even worse for Felicity because Sara can see why she might think Oliver likes her back. God, he can be such a jackass.

“I’m doing just fine,” He smiles at her again and it is just as jaw dropping, “I promise.”

Felicity jerks her head and opens the papers and books to start the tutoring. And that’s all it is. There aren’t any saucy looks and winks at each other, Oliver doesn’t make lewd innuendos in her direction. Hands don’t slip under the desk and rest against legs.

No, they literally study on for thirty minutes and Sara wonders if it is because Oliver knows she is there or if she is making up all the weird smiles and tension in their earlier conversation and there is honestly nothing going on between them.

And even weirder, he is interested in what they are studying. He asks questions, he writes things down she signals as important. He is trying for _her._ It’s weird but maybe he just wants her to be proud since she is his tutor and shit.

But then, it happens. And oh man, Sara wishes she wasn’t around or couldn’t hear people’s inner thoughts.

Oh boy.

Oliver sits his pencil down and looks at Felicity who is bent over and her purple colored nail pointed at the book, _“All I am is a man, I want the world in my hands.”_

First line really sums up the man’s whole damn life. He is the epitome of I want my cake and guess what I get to eat it too. If it wasn’t so annoying, it would almost be admirable. But he is bouncing between her sister and her maybe okay definitely stepsister one day.

If Oliver knew he was singing he’d probably just laugh it off and put on a show, but this Oliver, this inner Oliver who is really feeling things is singing to Felicity like she is the only audience he could _ever_ care about.

He pushes her hair back to stare at the side of her face, leaning closer and Sara knows his nose is touching her cheek and oh god, did he just smell her?

_“Let’s have an adventure. Head in the clouds but my gravity’s centered.”_

Make it stop, make it stop. Sara covers her eyes with her hands and drops her head against the table praying the noise will stop.

“ _Touch my neck and I’ll touch yours,”_ She looks up and Oliver has now turned Felicity’s chair to face him and she wants to stop it but there is nothing to stop. This is in his _mind._ Probably buried so deep in his subconscious he doesn’t even realize just how fucked he is.

But then she realizes with terror that those words just came out of Felicity’s mouth. Oh no, oh no, this is a duet. They are singing together. That’s not good.

 _“No shirt, no blouse, just us, you find out,”_ Felicity hums a perfect melody and Sara sees a tensing of Oliver’s shoulders.

Sara yelps when he snatches Felicity out of the chair and she expertly straddles his lap. She is now above him, staring him down while he cranes his head back. Her fingers are splayed against the sides of his face and okay, is this consent? And should she be watching this? Because this is some definite foreplay going on. She really misjudged Felicity because she has Oliver eating out of the palm of her hand. She would give her a round of applause if he didn’t already a have a girlfriend who is you know, Laurel.

The singing continues as he whispers it against her skin and Sara turns her chair completely around just to avoid exactly what is going on behind her. Her arms are crossed tight and she wanted to confront Oliver about cheating on her sister with her most likely one day stepsister, but who knows if they are even cheating? This song could mean nothing. Just deep want that they aren’t even acting on.

 _“The goosebumps start to raise, the minute that my left hand meets your waist_ ,” She shakes her head, refusing to look back. It will be over soon, and she can’t leave the library unfortunately for herself.

But then it gets worse. Oh, so worse.

 _“Put my finger on your tongue cause you love the taste_ ,” She spins, and Felicity is laying on the small library desk and Oliver is leaning over her like an actual predator and the image of those words flash wildly in her mind and before she can stop she snaps.

“Stop for fucks sake!” The air snaps like a leather rope and she looks around.

Oliver and Felicity look up from their work, just as normal as can be and look at her like they weren’t just seconds from fucking in front of her and singing dirty dirty words.

“Ms. Lance!” She whips her head to sheepishly apologize to the librarian who glares as she walks away.

She turns back and Oliver and Felicity are still staring with raised brows and frowns.

“You okay, Sara?” Felicity asks looking over Oliver’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” She nods even though she is definitely not okay because what does a duet mean, “Ray just text me. Still has mono.”

Felicity nods with a sympathetic frown and turns back to her work, Oliver still looking at her with his hunched over shoulders. He is glaring at her like she just might ruin his whole life. But worries her more, what is more concerning is the way he maneuvers his body to conceal Felicity, like she is the one he is worried about—not Laurel.

“Here’s a good example, Oliver,” Her hand rests on his arm and he gives a visible reaction. Felicity touching him is like if she released every ounce of tension out of his body and he turns to give her full attention.

And Sara decides they are _definitely_ fucking.

* * *

When Sara goes to bed, she is praying to Gods she doesn’t really believe in to make it all normal in the morning. She even bargains, praying she won’t cheat anymore, and she won’t even be rude about her mom and will try even harder with Donna if she just can wake up and the singing is _gone._

But she wakes up and hears Laurel and sends a middle finger to the ceiling. She doesn’t sneak out to watch Laurel destroy her room, just stay in her comfortable bed and sheets while Laurel sings her heart out and after a few lyrics, Sara does feel her heart break at the song.

 _“Cryin’, cryin’, cryin’!”_ Laurel is screaming and her voice is hoarse from the force of her words spewing out of the back of her throat.

Sara sighs. Maybe this won’t stop until she fixes the ones singing to her. Laurel seems pretty heartbroken as she cries through her song by Florence and the Machine and once again, Sara seems to know it isn’t about Oliver.

Why are they all doing this to themselves? If Sara learned anything from yesterday, it was the fact that Oliver and Laurel _were not_ happy together. They didn’t even sing to each other probably cause they were never in a room long enough.

So maybe Sara needs to break them up and then get them where they want to be. Even though they should be honest in their toxic relationship but maybe stupidly they don’t want to hurt each other.

Because Laurel wants Oliver’s best friend.

And Oliver wants Felicity who is doing her best for Laurel to like since their parents are head over heels for each other.

They literally sang Perfect by Ed Sheeran last night at dinner. Adorable, yes. Eye opening, for sure. Easier for Laurel who still thinks their mom is coming back, fuck no.

Though Laurel didn’t hear it but even without the song anyone could see they were happy.

Sara got ready with a plan. First, she needed to figure out just how much Laurel liked Tommy and then the same with Felicity. From there, she will strategically get the four idiots to actually communicate.

And if during any of this time, Ava Sharpe wants to sing her a love song that explicitly told her how she felt then that will be a perk.

Sara isn’t very good with feelings. She was mean to Ray for probably two years just because she wasn’t used to people wanting to be around her. When she had a crush on a senior boy freshman year, she punched him in the face just so he could get the right idea. When her ex-girlfriend moved away sophomore year, she didn’t shed a tear, just said bye with a wave and dealt with it through dance. So she wasn’t good with her own feelings so trying to navigate through everyone else’s was just a bitch.

She starts with Laurel because Laurel is wired to love Sara so she can make her mad and Laurel will still stay around, and still take her home and still say good night.

So she starts with Laurel.

“Laurel,” Sara crosses her arms, the picture of casual because that’s what she is as she sits in the front seat of Laurel’s car, “What are your thoughts on Tommy Merlyn?”

That will get her.

“I don’t think anything of Tommy Merlyn,” Laurel deadpans with no movement in her tone. Well shit, how does she do _that?_

Lies.

Lies.

Lies.

She is a dirty little liar and they both know it. Laurel just doesn’t know she knows it, but she does. She knows that Laurel and Tommy are singing love songs to each other. Wait—Laurel hasn’t explicitly sang to Tommy, but it’s an educated guess.

“He’s Oliver’s best friend,” Sara points out.

Laurel shrugs, “Doesn’t mean he is _my_ friend.”

One side of Sara’s lips quirk up in confusion. How can she be so nonchalant when she is pining for him? Or maybe she isn’t, maybe it is one sided.

“He’s nothing, Sara.” She forces the words and Sara nods.

“Okay, he’s nothing.”

It’s silent and Sara is about to ask about Oliver and have a very nice conversation about why they shouldn’t be together when Laurel sings.

God, Sara hates singing.

“ _Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you?_ ” Sara mutters liar under her breath and Laurel sighs the words, “ _Why can’t I speak whenever I talk about you?_ ”

Well that settles it. She had four people who liked the wrong ones. She had concrete evidence and now she had to figure out how exactly to get them where they belong without actually having real knowledge of their feelings.

The day goes by slowly and she continues to miss Ray and even texts him to remind him he is her only friend other than Mick who isn’t even a real friend and would really appreciate if he got better.

He replied that he was doing his best.

She sat at lunch with Ava who didn’t sing to her, but did ask if she was going to Tommy’s party that night so she took it as a win.

She went to every party Laurel went to so her dad wouldn’t question it. Because Sara didn’t drink and Laurel drank too much and Sara was always there to catch her when she fell. Parties usually started strong and happily before Oliver looks at a girl too long, Laurel picks a fight, Oliver storms off, Laurel gets drunk, Oliver finds a girl to make her jealous, and then in this choose your adventure either Laurel pulls Oliver away and they make up against a wall or she storms out and he takes a lucky girl to an unlucky room.

It’s pathetic and disgusting and Sara really wanted to just break them up for each other.

And so come that night she picked out her best fitting jeans, her tightest tank top that stopped right above her high rise pants, and her cutest vans. She had a girl to impress and let her hair fall in their natural blonde waves ready to have Ava find her cute, sexy, really anything positive.

She is also ready for Operation Dumbass and she just hopes not too many people sing to her.

The Merlyn mansion is only second to the Queen mansion, so it is gaudy and too big and overcompensating for something for sure. The parties of Starling high are mostly just groups gathered around in different parts of the house drinking, playing beer pong, getting high or gossiping. There weren’t gyrating bodies on a makeshift dance floor and everyone is supposed to stay in the bottom two floors which consist of the basement full of sofas and pool tables and then then the floor above it which consists of a movie theater (she is not exaggerating) and a few sporadic bedrooms.

Only a select few were allowed in other parts of the house and those select few were:

Oliver.

Whoever Oliver brings with him.

That’s it.

Not even Sara who has known Tommy since she was a toddler and even though they don’t exactly speak, she thought she’d at least be allowed to the main floor to pee if she wanted.

But alas, she was a peasant like the rest of them.

Tonight; however, she planned on going upstairs because something mysterious was afoot and she needed to still see what she was working with. How in deep were these four idiots who are making things ten times harder for themselves.

She had to figure out a way to make it upstairs without anyone noticing baby Lance sneaking away and ratting her out.

But only when one of the four were no longer there because that is when the investigating will begin.

For now, Oliver and Laurel were in a corner, sipping out of red cups and speaking in low tones. Neither with an expression other than neutrality on their face. They look like they could be anywhere else and it would be better. Their façade of being golden was falling apart and becoming old and brass and yet neither seemed to notice.

No one did and if it wasn’t for the whole singing thing, Sara still wouldn’t.

Because though their expressions were bored and indifferent and neither kept their eyes on each other, their bodies were close, inches separated with Laurel’s hand resting on his arm and Oliver’s around her waist.

They played it well and would sell it completely if it wasn’t for the way their eyes searched around looking for anyone else.

Sara is beside Ava loving every moment she soaks up with her. She debates telling her what is going on, wanting something to connect with each other but she doesn’t want Ava to think she is actually crazy.

“Are you excited for spring break?” Ava asks.

“Mhmm, I never do anything but a week off is always nice,” Sara grins over the rim of her cup giving her best smize, “Maybe we can hang out.”

Ava nods excitedly, “My parents are letting me have a few days off from the café and so we definitely can.”

Sara goes to respond, feeling warmth in her veins, seeping into her bones at Ava’s excitement to hang out but then the music begins again.

“Fuck,” She groans and Ava doesn’t even notice so she must be in her own little world of watching all relationships implode around her.

She doesn’t even know the people singing, just a few girls who do a great girl power movement to Woman by Kesha. They are choreographed as they shove the boys away who keep trying to hand them drinks and look down their shirts.

God, boys can so despicable. 

The air thickens and dissipates, and the girls are huddled in a circle, never making eye contact with the boys across the way as though they are in the wrong. They stay close, keep their cups closer and Sara wishes she could at least help them.

But once again, she isn’t supposed to know this.

Any of this.

The party continues you on and she sees Felicity on a sofa looking uncomfortable and out of place. The only person who has stepped up to talk to her was Barry Allen, Oliver’s best friend after Tommy. Barry was kind and probably knew every single person in this house and Sara wouldn’t be surprised if he had spoken to every partygoer who walked through that door.

The disgusting boys who made girls uncomfortable with their stares and words could learn a thing or two from Barry Allen.

Barry might be able to help her; he has a connection with each of the four and it wouldn’t be weird for him to offer his help. Barry is _known_ for trying to play match maker. Sara blames it on dating only one girl and most likely marrying the second they graduate high school, but still. Barry wanted everyone just as happy as he was with Iris West.

She tells Ava she will be back and starts to maneuver through people to get to Barry when the music plays up again.

“Damn it!” She stomps her foot. She knew coming to a party where people are drinking was a surefire way for the singing to multiply.

She looks around trying to figure out who is belting Harry Styles across the way and honestly she should have known.

“ _Honey, I’d walk through fire for you,_ ” Iris has just walked through the door and Barry has seen her so of course the man is singing about her.

They are nauseating with their love at times. Seventeen-year old’s should not love each other _this_ much.

“ _Just let me adore you,_ ” Barry is sliding through the crowd, smile wide as he takes each step to his girlfriend. “ _Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do._ ”

He stops in front of Iris, eyes shimmering with love and Sara realizes the song is over and this is just them being in love. He holds her cheeks, kisses her lips and Sara is close enough to hear him tell her he missed her.

This is what happens when you meet your future spouse when you are in preschool.

She lets them have their cute little moment of saying hello before Iris is slipping away to make her rounds just as sweet as Barry. They are like the mom and dad of Starling high.

“Barry!” Sara calls out.

She really hates this new power. She is interacting completely out of her circle of friends that consist of Ray and Mick who got suspended for blowing up the lab last week. Now, she is having to talk to people because her brain decided she needed to branch out.

Barry smiles at her even if there is slight confusion because they—like everyone else—didn’t speak.

“Hey Sara,” He pats her shoulder as he goes to move by.

“I need to talk to you,” She follows after him ignoring the worried looks from her classmates. Honestly, they look at her like she assassinates people in her spare time.

“Oh?” He turns to give her his full attention.

She nods and looks around for an empty spot to take him. Across the way she sees a span of wall where no one has claimed as their own and it is just at a corner to a hallway.

Perfect.

“Follow me,” She crooks a finger and blatantly ignores when Sucker by Jonas Brothers is sung a floor up. She is _not_ looking into that one.

Barry does as he is told like the golden retriever he is, and soon they are standing face to face.

“I need your help.”

His eyebrows rise, “You didn’t beat someone up, did you?”

She opens her mouth to snap, but realizes that could have been a possibility. She waves him off, “Matchmaking help.”

What a sap, he literally perks up at the thought alone, “Do you want me to get Iris?”

Sara really tries to look annoyed but she knows the smile still breaks through, because really doesn’t everyone want to be loved like they love each other? Sara’s eyes dance back to Ava before cutting sharply back to Barry.

“Just you, I’m afraid,” She shrugs, “Oliver and Laurel.”

The side of his mouth ticks up, “Are already together.”

She rolls her eyes, “Can you honestly tell me they should be?”

Barry opens and closes his mouth, awkwardly scratches the back of his head and stutters something about it not being his place to say, but Sara forces him too. She needs him to understand that she wants peace in her mind and she can’t have that until they are broken up and where they are supposed to be.

He grimaces.

“They suck and I need to break them up,” She says matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know if I should be involved in this,” He goes to move past her but she snatches the sleeve of his shirt.

“I have intel that they don’t even want to be together,” He looks at her with squinted eyes.

“And how would you even know that? They look fine,” He waves his arm at the couple in front of them.

She turns and sure enough, they are still moving around the room hand in hand and laughing with others but as though the world wants to remind her the point of this conversation, for seconds she hears what they really think.

Oliver, still holding her hand, turns and yells, “ _Can’t you just go somewhere on vacation? I could book your flight and pack your bags if you want._ ”

Sara’s eyes widen rather comically because wow, that’s a lot of anger coming from a guy who is usually too drunk and high to feel anything.

And then there is Laurel, who sings back, “ _With my feelings on fire, guess I'm a bad liar_.”

And then cuts back and Sara mumbles, “If you only knew, my dude.”

“Huh?”

She shakes her head, knowing if she tells him the truth he’ll find her crazy and so she continues on, “I have very good reason to believe that Oliver and Laurel are unhappy and want to be with someone else and I just need _your_ help to give them a push in the right direction.”

He breathes though his teeth and scratches the top of his head, “I don’t know, Sara.”

“You just need to work your in love nonsense and they will see how good it could be.”

He pouts lightly at the insult, but he is softening, she knows it, “Who do they even like other than each other?”

Sara chuckles, “Give it time, young grasshopper. You’ll see.”

And once again, the world spins and she is so tired of the music gods and their fucking timing.

“ _Feeling used, but I’m still missing you._ ” She knows that pitiful voice and sure enough Tommy is leaning against the wall glaring at the seemingly happy couple as he gulps down the rest of his beer.

 _“It hurts every time I see you, realize how much I need you,”_ That wasn’t Tommy and her head darts back and forth for the voice and there sits Felicity lonely on one of the many couches looking just as heartbroken and lost as her counterpart singing.

“ _I hate you, I love you, I hate that I love you._ ” They’re singing together and she wants nothing more than to smack Barry on the arm and tell him about this tremendous breakthrough.

“ _You want her, you need her and I’ll never be her,_ ” Sara frowns, sadness dipping into her mind as she sees the pain on Felicity’s face.

She actually thinks she is the one who is being used and that Oliver is just playing his usual Oliver games and if it wasn’t for the songs and the pathetic way he looks at her, Sara would agree. But she knew the truth, all the truths, and it caused gnawing in her stomach at the people around her being so miserable.

“ _Fucked around and got attached to you, friends can break your heart too, and I'm always tired, but never of you,_ ” Her eyes pop back to Tommy and she gulps and her heart clenches in pain.

This all started as a way to end this, but now she is sympathetic to them. To her broken sister who thinks she is doing the right thing, Tommy who is trying to be a good friend, Oliver who is just continuing like he is supposed to, and Felicity feeling like she is below them.

It isn’t supposed to be like this and Sara wants to scream for them to understand. They can have each other. They don’t have to do _this._ But Sara doesn’t even know why they are doing this.

“ _How is it you never notice, that you are slowly killing me,”_ Tommy and Felicity’s voices are raw with emotion and she is pretty sure she sees redness in those eyes of Merlyn and Felicity has a tear dripping to her cheek.

This is some dramatic Shakespearian nonsense and here she thought the craziness thing to happen this year was finding out Thea Queen was actually the love child of Moira and Malcolm.

Family dinners are awkward enough without Tommy being head over heels in love with Oliver’s girlfriend.

It’s too much and her head hurts from the music and she can’t take this alone anymore, “Fuck it, I’m telling you everything.”

And she does. She explains to Barry every interaction that she had encountered the heart songs and at first, she knows he thinks is lying, pulling his leg. But then she tells him about what he sang to Iris and his eyes sharpen and he stops her.

“How did you know about that song?”

“It’s Harry Styles,” She explains, and he shakes his head.

“But in reference to me and Iris. That’s her favorite song,” He adds, and she shrugs.

“You sang it to her when she walked in. I don’t choose the songs or the way they are sung or when or how often. But it is getting more frequent and more annoying.”

Maybe it’s in her eyes that she is exhausted and didn’t sleep well last night from the songs. Or maybe she is showing just how frustrated she was, maybe it was etched into the skin of her face, to the tightness of her mouth.

But he believes her.

And promises to help her.

She thanks him and that alone shocked him enough to scutter away to pull Tommy out of the room. She rests against the wall, just wanting to leave but knowing she could probably get a lot of info from being here.

She waits patiently and sure enough, because they are who they are, Oliver and Laurel start arguing. She is pretty there they are just finding the smallest thing to pick at just to get away from each other and soon enough, Laurel is rolling her eyes and walking away from him.

And that’s when things change.

Because usually, Laurel snatches a beer from the closest hand, Oliver tugs on the shirt of the closest girl and they play the parts written for them. But it doesn’t happen. When Laurel turns away, she looks relieved and she exits up the stairs like she was just waiting for the moment that Oliver shoved her away.

And Oliver, Oliver smiles, a small secret grin, sits his drink down, picks up a nearby water bottle and pours it into a fresh cup and strides with ease to the couch that Felicity resides.

Sara wants to follow Laurel, to see where she heads but if she goes to Tommy, Barry will be there. No, her best plan of action is stay with Oliver and Felicity.

So she watches them. They don’t interact like she expects. They just sit there under the guise of having nowhere else to go. But that relaxed posture she didn’t realize Oliver never had was back just by being close to the blonde. His arm thrown lazily on the back of the sofa, his body inclined towards her as he sips on his water. People come and go talking to him, never acknowledging Felicity—jackasses—but he never pulls farther away from her.

To anyone else, he is just sitting where he wants not caring about the girl next to him. But she sees it and she can’t believe she never realized just how secretive Oliver Queen was. Everything he did was a calculated move and she wonders what else he lies about. He even acts drunk as the minutes pass even though she knows he is just drinking water.

Oliver Queen—definitely not fake and flat like she thought.

Felicity stays in her spot and Sara almost wants to ask her why she came. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place in this house, with these people. Sara couldn’t even think of exactly who Felicity spends her time with outside of apparently Oliver. She was so quiet, and people tended to mock her for skipping a grade, for being so smart, for her mom wearing tight dresses and being over the top.

They didn’t know Donna was the kindest, most endearing person you could meet if you just gave her five seconds. In the last six months of her dad dating her, Donna had shown up to be more of a mom to Sara than her own ever did.

But no one cared about that.

It is then, Sara sees clarity. _That_ is why Oliver is sitting beside her, never speaking, pretending he never even realized she is there. He is protecting her as she tries to prove her point that she is more than a walking encyclopedia, and Oliver stays right by her side so no one bothers her. Because who is going to waste Queen time by insulting Felicity?

Felicity shifts to relax back into the couch, smiling when Iris says hello. Sara shuffles around her peers, to be behind the couch and she isn’t shocked to see Oliver playing with the ends of Felicity’s hair that’s rests against him.

Sara feels a head rush. God, Oliver is ten steps ahead of her and she still doesn’t know the game he is playing.

Sara hums as she tries to think of a way to wrap this all up with a nice bow. She could always just blurt out she knows the truth, but Oliver and Laurel are so deep in their mind games, they might not even realize they are playing them.

So, she stays put, she stays quiet, and she watches as Oliver makes a quiet exit. Let her repeat this—Oliver Queen who needed attention like a vampire needed blood stood up and slipped away seemingly unnoticed. His steps were quiet, his movements were exact, and no one noticed the prodigal son left right under their noses. 

She counts down from ten and doesn’t make it to seven before Felicity stands, wipes her hands on her jeans followed out the exact same way.

How is she the only one seeing this shit? You know who would see this? Ray, but Ray had to go and get fucking mono.

She makes eyes contact with Barry who is back without Tommy and waves her over, “Where’s Tommy?”

He shrugged, “He said he needed to get something from his room, but I did pass your sister and I’m just saying she looked perfectly content.”

Sara gives her best look, the one that made sure he knew he was an absolute idiot. Her head tilts to the side, her long hair brushing her wrist and she nods slowly as though she just realized how spot on she was for calling him a golden retriever.

Barry Allen—most likely to create a new type of matter and he is this oblivious.

He shakes his finger at her and nods, “Laurel and Tommy, got it.”

“I’ll be back,” She pats him on the arm, “Go find that perfect girlfriend of yours.”

She leaves him, sneaking up the stairs wondering just which couple she is going to come across first. She would really like some actual evidence of their situation and not just the mind singing. She can’t get far with the mind singing.

She steps onto the main floor and glares at the furniture. It is so uninviting and pretentious with the stiff grey sofa, the wing back leather chair, the portrait of Malcolm Merlyn above the fireplace. Could he be more of a villain?

She meanders around, hoping to just find anything, stumble upon something when she hears it. It is quiet and far away but it is there.

Whispers, murmurs, begging.

She follows the noise and in Malcom’s office—that’s risky—stands the definitely not what she expected Oliver Queen with more to her than computers Felicity against the book shelf.

And this isn’t a mind thing, she isn’t looking at Oliver’s deepest wants and Felicity’s deepest insecurities. No, this is real. This is raw and this is gut-wrenching.

Oliver is looking down at her like he is about to lose her and she is looking up at him like she doesn’t want to go.

“We both know this never works out,” Felicity is saying, a tear dripping to her cheek just like it did in the song and Sara closes her eyes because it is not supposed to be this hard when you are just a teenager.

“If you would just let me--”

Felicity shakes her head and Oliver’s voice shifts from angry, shifts from the Queen way of getting what he wants, and cuts deep into Sara’s soul.

“Baby, _please,_ ” He begs, caressing her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders. He rests his forehead against her own and Felicity’s hands fall against his chest. Not pulling him closer, but not pushing him away.

“Laurel is finally talking to my mom. If this comes out, that you slept with your tutor because you were bored--”

“That is not what happened,” He snaps.

Sara only feels grief for them. She isn’t even angry he cheated on her sister and that’s mostly because she is about ninety percent sure her sister is cheating too. Not that she condones any of this infidelity, but the more she looks, the more she hears, it just feels like they are all stuck in between a rock and a hard place. She doesn’t have everything but it seems none of them want what is happening.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Felicity shrugs, “But it will be the end of her trying with my mom and I can’t--” She gulps, “I can’t ruin things for my mom.”

Oliver’s eyes are closed like and he looks visibly sick. He drops his head into the crook of her shoulder like a child. She never thought Oliver could be vulnerable, she never thought he had a heart to give.

“I’m leaving in four months for MIT and you will forget all about me,” She whispers, still loud enough for Sara to hear from her hiding spot, as she cards her fingers up and down the back of his head.

Oliver huffs and pulls back to stare at her, “Not possible.”

She gives the saddest of smiles, “I’m not right for you. I don’t fit in this world and I never will. I’m just a girl whose mom is a waitress and I am okay with that. But your family never will be.”

“I don’t _care,_ ” He says it with such conviction and for a moment, Sara thinks Oliver would gladly give every cent of his inheritance if it meant he got the girl in front of him.

“I _do,_ ” Felicity responds, “And I want Sara and Laurel to like me and my mom and this would make them _hate_ me.”

Sara almost butts in to tell her she couldn’t be more wrong. But seeing her wide eyes full of unshed tears and trembling lips must break Oliver because he nods.

“Okay,” He whispers wiping the tears from the blonde’s face, “Okay.”

He sounds so defeated and Sara can already see him falling right back into being the Oliver with the script as he steps away from her, hands falling to his sides. He’d give her anything she wanted, Sara realizes.

Sara is getting pretty good at recognizing when someone is about to sing, she hears piano whispers, the air seems to still as the world zones in on one person. So she isn’t all that surprised when Oliver begins to sing.

“ _I don't want to leave here without you, I don't want to lose part of me,_ ” His eyes are red and runs a rough hand over his face looking years older than eighteen.

They stand feet apart, arms out in front but never touching as they break each other and Felicity murmurs, “ _I don't want to know what it's like to live without you, don't want to know the other side of a world without you._ ”

The words are haunting, breaking, splitting them in two neither knowing just how important they were, neither coming to terms with the weight of their love. It is terrifying, it is eye opening, it is sickening.

They break, back to the silence hanging above them.

Felicity wipes at her eyes again, hiccups a last sob, and nods. She only makes it two steps away from before Oliver can’t seem to let her go. He wraps his arm around her thing wrist and tugs.

“Oliver,” Felicity whispers before his lips are on hers.

He pulls back, “Not tonight.”

She nods frantically and her lips are back on his and Sara has seen enough she needs to see.

She scratches previous thought that they were _just_ having sex. No, no they are tortured and actually _like_ each other.

She has had enough and doesn’t want to go find Laurel who is probably cooped up in Tommy’s room. She doesn’t want this power anymore, she doesn’t want to hear the broken thoughts, she doesn’t want to see the world and people for what they really are.

No one is happy around her, no one is content. They are all just miserable.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs in this chapter:  
> Prisoner- Raphael Lake, Aaron Levy & Daniel Ryan Murphy  
> Honest Man- Ben Platt  
> I want you to want me- CheapTrick (but Jane Levy version)  
> Sweater Weather-The Neighborhood (James Harris version)  
> Over the Love-- Florence and the Machine  
> Why Can't I?- Liz Phair  
> Vacation-Simple Plan  
> Bad Liar-Selena Gomez  
> I hate U, i love U - Gnash  
> Adore You-Harry Styles  
> The Other Side-Ruelle


End file.
